Your last six weeks
Decent into madness
Prisoner of your own mind
Conspiracy of loved ones
Set to take you down
Fighting just to breathe
As you stared into the static
Mad bombers in Boston
Fueled your paranoia
While I tried to diffuse
Your bomb
Of oxygen and cigarettes
One bullet was all you needed
Maybe two…..
Helpless futile attempts
To excise the disease
Wasting, wasting
-ssssssssssssssssssssss

I wrote this a few weeks ago and debated posting it. Today, one of my favorite bloggers, Behind the White Coat posted Cycling. If you don’t already follow her you should check her out. She always has insightful stories and a unique point of view -not to mention beautiful photographs that she pairs perfectly with her writing. The piece Cycling showed what doctors can do to make a positive difference in family health. I only wish my father had had such a conscientious doctor. His doctor was too worried about potential lawsuits to do the right thing. He would not recommend an Alzheimers ward. He wanted my eighty year old mom to handle my dad who was in a rapid state of decline. This forced me to choose between my dad and my mom when my dad became violent and my mom had to move out for her safety. Eventually I went before a judge to get him committed to a care facility. His last few weeks were spent in a state of confusion and hate for the family that actually loved him so much. While Alzheimers is a difficult disease for a family to handle even under the best circumstances, it would have been a lot easier if the healthcare professionals had been supportive instead of antipathetic.